Saving Lives
by mystica88
Summary: Dr. House has a new case, but will he be able to separate himself enough from the situation to save a life? Case form. Finally posted the last chapter! I didn't realize that it hadn't posted before. My apologies!
1. Wilson COuldn't Breathe

Disclaimer: I do not owe House M.D. I'm just a fan and completely in love with the man.

A/N: So I'll say it again, I'm not a doctor, don't know hardly anything about medicine but I love the show so I try my best. Apologies for the unrealistic medical stuff; I just hope the story line is interesting.

**Wilson Couldn't Breath…**

Wilson couldn't breathe…

He couldn't believe this was happening. He found himself completely submerged under water. As he looked up through the waves that he created by struggling, he could make out the wavering form of his best friend, Dr. Gregory House. His expression was cold and unreadable as he stared down at the drowning James Wilson with his piercing blue eyes while he held him under.

It was horrifying. Wilson's lungs were burning for a breath but he knew that if he gave into his desire, he would only seal his fate. His head was screaming at House, trying to ask what it was he was doing. Why would his friend turn on him like this?

As if in answer, he heard more in his head than ears, "How good of a friend are you? Would you let me kill you?"

The man was deranged, something had gone terribly wrong.

"Wilson, I need you to breathe!" he heard House screaming as his hands moved from his shoulder to his abdomen.

Wilson shook his head, trying to keep himself from taking that fatal breath.

House began to press on his abdomen, presumably to force him to take that breath.

Everything was getting even darker and fuzzier. Wilson still wouldn't take that breath but he could steadily feel his control slipping from him. He had always had a fear of water ever since he nearly drowned as a boy. At that time he had inhaled it and found the experience not anything he wanted to have again. And so he fought against both the unconsciousness that the lack of air was bringing as well as the signals that his brain was sending his lungs to take that water filled breath.

"Damn it Wilson! Breathe!" House screamed as he lifted his hands and plunged his face under the water. Wilson could feel his nose being pinched off as the ruff face made contact with his. Warm lips hit his and suddenly his burning lungs were being filled with the desperately needed air. Once… Twice…

And then the compressions on his abdomen again. Followed by two more breaths.

Somewhere, Wilson was distantly aware that House wasn't trying to kill him, but was trying to save him. But he still was submerged and unable to breath on his own.

"JAMES!" House screamed just before giving him two more breaths.

Suddenly it felt as if he was lifted from the water. He took a huge, gulping breath and tried to sit bolt upright on the couch where he had been lying. He was dripping not with water, but with sweat as he felt Houses arms grab him on his way up. He was shaking and gulping for air as he attempted to orient himself.

He was lying on House's couch, but he couldn't remember why he was there. The only thing he could remember was the piecing blue eyes staring down at him as he drowned under the water. He struggled against the arms that were once again restraining him, fearing that he was going to be pushed under again.

"Wilson! Snap out of it! You're alright. You're breathing again, everything is going to be alright," he could hear House's voice saying as the man tried to get him to lie back down. Distantly he could hear sirens approaching.

Good, maybe they'll help me. Maybe they'll keep him from trying to kill me again, Wilson thought but he knew that it wasn't right. House hadn't really tried to kill him. House had just saved him.

But the memory of the hallucination was so vivid that he couldn't bring himself to believe the truth.

"Let go of me! No, I won't let you kill me! Let go!" he could hear himself saying as he continued to struggle against his friend.

"Wilson, I'm not trying to kill you. You stopped breathing, you had no pulse. I brought you back. Now CALM DOWN!"

Something about the command finally hit him. The hallucination finally vanish completely as he lay on the couch, looking up at his friend once again. But now, rather than the cold uncaring stare that he had seen before, it was an almost frightened and concerned look. The blue eyes sought his, looking for a glimmer of sanity that he could connect with, use to bring Wilson back to reality.

He found it, Wilson settled and lay still right as the apartment door burst open. House suddenly disappeared from view as he found himself surrounded by a chaos of paramedics. Within moments, he had lost that connection with the world that he had just had as everything dissolved into unintelligible sound and color.

He could feel himself moving and could hear the siren. Distantly he knew that he was on his way to the hospital, but all of the commotion around him kept him from being able to focus. He could hear words, but couldn't understand them. He saw hands, but couldn't connect them with a person.

His world narrowed further and further as his breath began to fail once again. Then all of the sudden, there was nothing. All of the sound, all of the colors, all of the motion just vanished and all he knew was nothingness.

please review


	2. The Story as Told by House

A/N So if any one knows Wilson's real age, please let me know. I just pulled a number out of the air without really thinking about it.

Glad you like it so far. I should be able to post a chapter a day so please keep reading and reviewing.

**The Story as Told by House**

Wilson had showed up late that night. He had a six pack in one hand and movies in the other. House hadn't expected him, but he never turned down a night spent drinking and hanging out with his best friend.

It had been quite late when they finished their movie watching and Wilson was more than a little tipsy. Without a word, House went to the closet and pulled out a blanket and pillow and threw them at his friend. Wilson smiled and set about making himself comfortable to spend the night once again on House's couch.

House went and crashed in his own bed, laying awake, as usual, for some time before drifting off into a light sleep.

He woke up the next morning much earlier then he had planned with his leg screaming at him and demanding that he get up and walk it out. Standing was always painful, but somehow the act of walking would dull the pain to just bearable.

He reached out and grabbed his cane from its home beside his bed and leaned heavily on it as he rose. The pain was incredible, but he knew that he had to walk or it would only get worse. Before taking his first step though, he reached down and grabbed his Vicodin from the table by his bed and popped the top. He dumped two of the white pills in his hand and threw them into his mouth, dry swallowing them quickly.

He shook his head, trying to bring himself out of the haze of pain that he was in and began the tormenting task of walking until the pain subsided.

When he walked out into the living room, he was reminded of the fact that Wilson was still there. He had forgotten that his friend had spent the night on his couch again and was somewhat angered by it. He didn't want his friend to wake up and see him in this much pain. Wilson knew that House would sometimes be overtaken by incredible pain from his leg, but it was always a matter of pride to House to keep the fact hidden.

He shook his head as he began to hope that his pain would subside before Wilson woke. There was really nothing else to be done, he couldn't just sit and let it pass; he had to walk it out. And so he began to pace, back and forth through his living room. Every now and then he would glance at his sleeping friend, somewhat surprised that his pacing with the heavy thumps of his cane hadn't waken him yet.

As one particularly horrible wave of pain took hold, House paused in his pacing right next to the couch, leaning heavily on his cane as he took deep breaths, willing the pain away. His head was hung as he gulped in air through his pain. The only thing that he had to focus on in that position was his sleeping friend.

It helped sometimes to concentrate on something else then the pain in order to diminish it and so he began to study Wilson's face. He noticed that he was covered in a light sheen of sweat and was very pale. As House continued to process this sight, it suddenly hit him that Wilson wasn't breathing.

His pain suddenly completely forgotten, he released his cane and dropped next to his friend, reaching out for a pulse with one hand as he reached for the phone on the coffee table behind with the other. There was not even the slightest flicker of a beat below his fingers. He never took his eyes off of his friend as his fingers punch the three numbers.

"911, what is the emergency?" he heard on the other end.

"I have a 37 year old male in cardiac arrest. He's not breathing and has no pulse, I'm about to begin CPR. I'm a doctor but I'm gonna need some help here," House distantly heard himself saying as he positioned himself over his friend to begin the compressions.

He never heard the response from the operator. He just told them the address and dropped the phone as he began CPR.

"Wilson!" he began to call. "Wilson, I need you to breath!"

He bent over and pushed two breaths into his friend. He felt his chest rise and fall with his breath, but there was still no pulse, no further breaths taken.

He began again and still there was no response.

"Damn it Wilson! Breathe!" Still nothing. He could hear the sirens in the distance and prayed they would hurry. This was getting him no where fast.

"JAMES!" he screamed, trying to will his friend to wake up.

And it worked. All of a sudden House heard the sound that he had been praying for as Wilson gulped a huge breath of air. He tried to rise, but House held him down, knowing that he was no where near out of the woods yet and a sudden change in elevation might just send him into it again.

Wilson was struggling against him, trying to break free. He seemed agitated and frightened, but that seemed like reasonable reaction from someone who's heart had just stopped for who knew how long.

"Wilson! Snap out of it! You're alright. You're breathing again, everything is going to be alright."

"Let go of me! No, I won't let you kill me! Let go!"

What was he talking about? Kill him? It was then that House realized that Wilson was wide eyed and wasn't really seeing anything that was there. His friend was hallucinating.

"Wilson, I'm not trying to kill you. You stopped breathing, you had no pulse. I brought you back. Now CALM DOWN!"

And with that, Wilson suddenly snapped back. He lay still for a moment, looking up at House with complete sanity once again. He seemed confused and scared, but he was Wilson once again.

And then the door burst open. The paramedics rushed in and took over. House managed to get out of their way as they rushed about their job. Somehow he had managed to grab his cane and limp to a corner where he anxiously watched the proceedings in his living room.

In a whirlwind, he was following them out the door and down to the waiting ambulance. He was about to get in with them, but a man held him back. "I'm sorry sir, there's no room. You can meet us a PPTH."

House had heard the man, but it didn't make sense. "I'm a doctor," he said. "I can help."

"Sir, you'll have to stay. We need the room to work. I'm sorry."

And with that the doors clanged shut and the Ambulance took off, leaving House staring, bewildered, after it.


	3. The Name Does Matter

**The Name Does Matter**

It only took a moment before House snapped back into action. He moved as fast as he could back to his apartment. Throwing on some jeans and a dress jacket over the rolling stones shirt he had slept in, House grabbed his motorcycle keys and picked up his pill bottle from the coffee table, throwing it his into his pocket. He swiped his cell from the counter and was punching the speed dial as he walked out the door, still jamming his feet into his sneakers as he walked.

"House?" Cuddy's voice sounded from the other side. "What are you calling me this early for? You have no cases and I wasn't expecting you in for clinic for hours, if you ever did show up."

"Wilson's just been taken to the ER. He went into cardiac arrest and was just taken away in the ambulance. He should be there any minute." he said in a hurry and he reached his bike and threw his leg over it. He was attaching his cane along side and turning the key as Cuddy finally found her voice again.

"House, this isn't funny," she said.

"It's not a joke. I'm on my way right now. Make sure he's still alive when I get there!" And with that Cuddy just heard the bike roar to life before the line went dead.

She sat in her office, frozen for a moment with the phone still up to her ear. And then everything hit her. She hung up the phone and was out of her office in a flash, heading directly to the ER to see if her Oncology head was actually about to be brought in as a patient.

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House may have been a rule breaker when it came to hospital policies, but he was never one to break the traffic rules. He knew what happened to people who did. They either wound up splattered or splattering someone else if not both. But today he didn't care.

He sped in and out of traffic, rushing to work as fast as he could. He only had to run one red light thankfully and there had been no one there we he did. It wasn't until he had reached the hospital that he realized that he hadn't even put on his helmet before taking off after the ambulance.

He kicked out the stand and grabbed his cane in one motion once again and hobbled his way frantically into the ER entrance.

"House!" he heard Cuddy calling as he walked through the door. He glanced at her and continued to walk as he demanded, "Where is he?"

"ER room 1. He crashed again on his way over and they're trying to bring him back now!"

House never once paused as she talked, he just pressed right on towards room one. "House, you can't go in there! Let them do there job!" Cuddy was calling after him, trying to keep up. For being a cripple, he was certainly able to move fast when he wanted.

"Oh yeah, they seem to be doing real well so far," he said as he reached the room. The scream of the heart monitor was the first thing that hit him. The second was that it was Chase who was currently the one directing the flurry in the room.

"Charge 350! Clear!" a jolt of energy racked Wilson's body. "20 cc's Atropine! 350 again! Clear!"

This time the as the body was jarred with electricity, the sound of the screaming alarm changed. The machine began to beep rhythmically as a line on the screen went from being straight to jumping to a peak and a back down… up and then back down. Everyone paused for a moment before they rushed back into action.

"Alright, we've got rhythm, let stabilize him!" Chase called as they began to continue about their job.

The whole time House had stood frozen in the door way, watching on in at first horror and then relief as Wilson's heart once again resumed.

He stood there for a moment before turning and walking away, heading up to his own office. Cuddy was saying something, but he didn't care what it was. He now had a case that he needed to get to work on. This was the most important case that he has had in his life.

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He stormed into the conference room, starling Cameron and Foreman who had just arrived themselves and were preparing their morning coffee.

Without a word, House walked up to his white board and picked up a marker and began to write.

Fever

Cardiac arrest

Repertory distress

Hallucinations

He turned around and looked at his partial team and finally addressed them. "We have a new case. Differential Diagnoses people."

"Good morning to you too," Foreman said as he sat down at the table.

"What is this?" Cameron asked, bewildered by the suddenness of the whole thing.

"What does it look like? It's not like this is something we haven't done before. I come in, I write the symptoms, you tell me what it is and I tell you why you're wrong until we figure out what it is."

"House, it's seven in the morning, we just got here and you're never here before ten, and last I checked we didn't have a case. Not to mention, Chase isn't even here yet." Foreman answered.

"I'm here now, we have a case, and Chase is with the patient so let's get down to business."

"House, that could be any number of things. Do you at least have a patient history for us? An age? A name?" Cameron was saying.

"A case file could help," Foreman said.

"Patient just arrived, there is no file yet. History…Both parents still alive and kicking, no history of heart disease in his family. Only disease that I'm aware of was an uncle who died from cancer. Age… 37. Happy?"

Cameron and Foreman exchanged a look before they turned back to House and Cameron asked, "And the name?" She was suddenly worried. House had specifically left that off. She could tell that he had purposely avoided saying the name. Between that and his sudden frenzied demeanor and the age as well as being able to spout off the family history, she thought she might know what was happening.

House glared at her for a moment before he suddenly seemed to collapse into himself. He crumpled into a chair and slumped over, placing his forehead on his cane handle. It had finally hit him, everything that had just happened, and he wasn't sure what to do anymore.

His first reaction was to make it all better. He had to figure out what was wrong and cure it. It was just another puzzle, another riddle to solve. But Cameron was standing there, demanding to know who it was that they were supposed to diagnose and for the first time, he realized that the name really did matter. This wasn't just another random person in off the streets that he had never met before and would never meet again. This was his friend… his only friend.

"House… who is it?" he heard Cameron asking again, this time with the worry and concern leaking through in her voice.

"Dr. James Wilson," he sighed.


	4. What Happened

A/N: thanks for all the support. Feel free to add any constructive criticism too : )

**What Happened**

The whole room fell completely silent. Cameron, who had been standing, now found herself also in a seat, jaw dropped and eyes bulging. Foreman simply sat with his face behind steepled fingers. House stayed where he had collapsed, seated and head on his cane. The whole room felt completely drained of all energy.

Suddenly the door burst open again. Cuddy rushed in and quickly took the scene in. House had written everything that he knew about Wilson's condition on the board but judging by the postures and faces of everyone in there, they hadn't gotten very far on the diagnosis yet.

"Wilson's stable," she said breathlessly. "He's intubated and unconscious, but he's stable for now."

"Cameron, draw some blood and test for anything and everything that you can think of. Foreman, MRI." House said quietly, not once moving form his position. "Where's Chase?" he asked Cuddy.

"He's still with him. I expect that he's waiting for you to join him," Cuddy answered.

"I have work to do and so does he. Send him up here so I can give him his orders."

Cameron and Foreman were on their way out the door already but they froze and stared back at their boss along with his boss as he spoke.

"House, he's your friend. Don't you want to see him?" Cameron asked, shocked.

"I've seen dying people before, they all look the same. Now I thought I told you to get going."

Foreman and Cameron exchanged another glance before they left the room to do what they had been told.

Cuddy stayed, staring down at the man who had just said the coldest statement that she had ever come from him. "This is not just another patient House… It's Wilson! You can't just sit there like this is just another case. You should be down there. You should be with him, not up here…"

"Not up here trying to save his life?!" House suddenly snapped, leaping from his chair and glaring at Cuddy. "Not trying my hardest to find out what the hell is wrong with him? Not driving myself mad, racking my brain to think what might heal him?"

Cuddy just stared at him, completely taken off guard by his out burst.

"You think it would be better for me to be standing over him, watching him slip form my life like everyone else rather than working to keep him in it? Is that what you want from me?"

"House, I didn't say that."

"Well that's what it sounded like to me," he bellowed as he stared her down for a moment. "Now, I asked you to send Chase up here."

Cuddy just stared at him for a moment before she shook herself and realized that there was nothing more that she as going to be able to do here. She turned and walked out, deciding that there was no way that she was going to get from House the reaction she wanted. All she could do was go along with him and pray that he wasn't too close to this to not be able to do his job.

Cameron walked into the room to find Chase hovering over Wilson. She knew now that it was Wilson, but that lifeless form lying on the bed seemed to have nothing in common with the light hearted, energetic man that she knew. There were wires and tubes everywhere. As a doctor, she had seen people in this condition before, but it was always hardest when it was someone that you knew and cared for.

She stopped right in the entrance and just stared for a moment, trying to take it all in. Chase was currently shining his pen light into the eye lid that he had just pried open. There was very minimal reaction from the pupil, they were loosing the man to a coma.

He sighed and looked up to see Cameron staring at his patient. "I can't believe this," Chase said to her.

"What happened?" she asked, hardly knowing how to proceed.

"All I know is I was working in the ER when they brought him in. I was right there at the door and I didn't even realize it was him at first. They said that he had crashed once but someone on the scene had brought him back but he crashed again right as the ambulance had pulled up to the door. It took us several minute to bring him back again."

"Oh my God," Cameron whispered as she came the rest of the way into the room and came alongside the bed.

"I thought I saw House leaving the ER right after we brought him back again," Chase commented.

"You probably did. Foreman and I had just gotten in when he came storming in and began writing symptoms on the board, demanding a differential. He was acting as if it was just another patient and it took us a while to get him to tell us what was happening. Then Cuddy came in and told us that you had Wilson stable. Now House has us out to run tests and he is refusing to come down."

Chase shook his head. It sounded just like the man but it was still difficult to grasp. If it was his friend that was sick, they wouldn't be able to tear him away. But they were now talking about a man who was without heart, what else could they expect from him?

Cameron finally remembered the reason she had been sent down and pulled the needle and vial from her lab coat to collect the blood samples for testing.

"What are you testing for?" Chase asked, curious what House thought it might be.

"Anything, everything. He doesn't know what it is."

Chase shook his head again.

Cameron finished up with the vials and then a question suddenly hit her. "One of the symptoms that House wrote was hallucinations, but if Wilson was crashed before he even got here, how would House know that he was hallucinating?"

"Because it was House who found him," Cuddy's voice answered from the door.

"It was House who brought him back the first time?" Chase asked, rather surprised by the news.

Cuddy nodded as she walked into the room as well and stared down at her employee and friend. She was having much the same thoughts as Cameron had had when she had first seen him.

"What could have happened?" she asked almost to herself.

"If anyone can figure it out, it's House," Cameron said and then she silently left the room to begin her tests.

Cuddy stood for a little while longer, studying Wilson, wishing that this was all just a bad dream. Finally she pulled herself form her musings and looked back up at Chase who had stood silently nearby. "House wants to see you," she said simply. As their eyes meet, Chase could just make out the shine of moistness in her eyes. He held her gaze for a moment before nodding and leaving as well.

_Damn it House, you should be here too_, she thought as she pulled up a chair alongside Wilson's bed and sat down, never taking her eyes from his face.


	5. Chill

**Chill**

When Chase entered House's office, the place looked like a tornado had hit. There were medical books of all shapes, sizes, and colors scattered about the room. It seemed as if every book that the place held had been pulled from the shelves, hastily rifled through, and then discarded.

House was currently sitting at his computer, furiously scrolling through some article or other. The man who notices everything, didn't seem to even realize that there was another person in the room with him.

Chase watched him for a moment, suddenly realizing that this man really did have a heart. House may not be at Wilson's side right now, but he was frantic to help him none the less. This was the one thing that House was really good at, and right now he had to use that skill to save his best friend. Chase realized that Cameron was right, if anyone were going to solve this, it would be House.

Chase decided that he had stared long enough and cleared his throat to signal his presence.

"It's about damn time," House grumbled, never taking his eyes from the screen.

"He's beginning to show signs of slipping into a coma," Chase announced, somewhat worried about what the reaction might be.

It seemed as if House didn't hear him as he continued to surf through the articles. Chase stood there, uncomfortably watching some more.

The tension of the room mounted as the silence continued to grow. And then, without warning, the older doctor snapped. In a whip like motion that Chase hadn't even seen, House's cane came up and swiped the books that lay open across his desk violently to the floor. He stood up and turned his furious gaze on Chase.

"So why are you just standing there?!" he demanded. "What is it? Come on, you've been working for me for a while now. Haven't you picked up any brilliant ideas yet? Can't you think of something to try? Can't you bloody do anything?" he railed at his subordinate.

Chase was frozen in place as he watched his boss advance on him, demanding answers to questions that he himself didn't have.

And then, just as suddenly as House had leapt at Chase, he was on the ground, clutching is right thigh. Chase stared for just a moment, not realizing what had just happened before he quickly covered the last few paces to his boss's side.

"House?" he was asking as he began to kneel beside him.

"Get out," House gasped through a pain laced voice.

"You need help. Let me help you," Chase was saying as he reached down to him.

House slapped the Australian's hands away as he repeated, "get out now."

Chase was stunned. Everything had been happening so fast he was just not able to process it all.

"Get Out!" House screamed at him as he locked eyes with the stunned man. Chase, not seeing any other option, turned and left.

House lay there, sprawled on the floor griping his throbbing thigh in complete agony. He gasped as waves of pain rushed over him, driving out any thoughts that he might have been able to have. He cursed his handicap. It very well might be what was keeping him from saving Wilson. Now, not only was his leg ruining his life, but that of his friend's as well.

He just laid there, unable to move, as, for the first time in years, tears began to stream down his face. He hadn't given into his emotions like this since just after the infarction. He hadn't felt such helplessness since that time.

_Maybe Cuddy was right_, he thought. _Maybe he should be down there right now_.

But as soon as the thought came, it was gone. _No, I have to keep working. I have to find out what's wrong. Then I can go to him when I have an answer… When I can save him. Nothing else matters._

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"What did he say?" Cameron asked Chase as he entered the lab.

Chase had a look of confusion on is face as Cameron looked up at him. "First he ignored me, then he was screaming at me for the answers, and then he collapsed in pain and yelled at me to leave," Chase replied.

"He what?" Cameron demanded as she stood up and started to leave.

"He won't let you help him," Chase was saying as she stalked past him and began to make her way back to House's office.

"I can't believe that you just left him there," she said over her shoulder.

"Cameron, leave him alone. Offering your help is only going to make matters worse," Chase was saying as he followed after her.

"The only thing that could make matters worse is if he winds up hurting himself more without any help. That's not going to help him, or Wilson."

"Cameron stop," Chase said as he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. "Leave him alone," Chase said with emphasis. "He doesn't want help and if you burst in there when he's like this, it's only going to make him angrier and less able to think. Right now the best thing that we can do is respect his privacy and do whatever it is that he wants."

Cameron stared at Chase for a moment, knowing that he was right, but still hating the thought of just leaving House to wallow in his pain.

"You should get back to that testing and I'm going to go help Foreman with the MRI. I'll send Cuddy up that way in a while to make sure that he's alright, but I think the best idea is to just leave him right now."

Cameron hesitated for another minute before she lowered her eyes and nodded. Chase was right, but it still didn't feel right. She pulled her arm from his now loose grip and walked back to the lab to continue her testing.

Chase watched her enter the lab again before he turned and headed back towards Wilson's room to help Foreman and to inform Cuddy of what had just happened.

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House had managed to pull himself off the floor and was now sitting on the couch in his office staring out to the white board that held Wilson's symptoms in the next room. He eyed his Vicodin bottle across the room on his desk but just couldn't bring himself to try and make it to the thing right now. So he sat there, massaging his leg as he tried to concentrate through the pain.

He knew that he was distracted not only by the pain, but also by the fact that it was Wilson that he was trying to save. He needed to find the cold center that he was used to working with. He needed to detach himself from the situation, to no longer see this as saving his friend's life, but solving an interesting puzzle.

He closed his eyes and leaned back into the couch as he breathed deeply. He washed the image of the pale and unconscious Wilson from this morning from his mind. He erased the incident in the ER from his memory and the comments that Cuddy had made about him needing to be down there now. Each breath he took, he willed another piece of the horror of it all away until he was once again, cold, calculating, heartless, House.

He took one final cleansing breath and opened his eyes and looked once again out to the white board. He was ready now, all he needed was his team and they could get to work for real on this case. And that was all this was to him now, just another case to solve.

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Chase entered Wilson's room to see Foreman preparing to take the man down to have the MRI. Cuddy was still in there as Chase suspected she would be. He signaled to Cuddy to follow him into the hall. Foreman raised an eyebrow but the only answer he received from Chase was a shake of the head. Obviously it was either something the neurologist didn't need to know or wouldn't want to know.

Cuddy followed Chase out in the hallway and asked, "What is it?"

"It's House," Chase began, but wasn't sure how to continue. He had been feeling bad about the way he had handled the situation ever since he had talked to Cameron. He shouldn't have left the doctor on his own, collapsed on the floor, but it wasn't as if House had left much of a choice to him.

"What?" Cuddy asked, starting to worry what might have made Chase seem so nervous.

"He… he is having a lot more problems with his leg today," Chase said.

"I'm not surprised. He's under a lot of stress," Cuddy replied, wondering why this was such a huge thing that Chase needed to tell her about it.

"Well, it's just that, I have never seen him collapse before because of it."

"He collapsed?" Cuddy demanded.

"Yeah. One minute he was coming at me, rather pissed off, the next he was on the floor, gripping his thigh. I tried to help, but he yelled at me to get out and wouldn't let me touch him."

"You just left him there?"

"There wasn't much else I could do," Chase defended.

Cuddy took a moment to breath. She knew that House could be difficult and was even more so when he was afraid that his pride was being hurt. She understood why Chase would want to get out of there in a hurry and she couldn't really blame him. But now it was going to be up to her to confront the wounded beast and this was not something she wanted to deal with right now on top of everything else.

"Alright, I understand," she said. "Go help Foreman with the MRI, I'll go check on House," Chase seemed very relieved as he nodded and left to help Foreman.

Cuddy took another deep breath and went to go check on her Diagnostian.

When Cuddy arrived at House's office, she was somewhat pleasantly surprised to see House picking up the books that he had scattered earlier. He didn't seem to be in any more pain than usual right now so what ever had happened when Chase was there, seemed to have passed. She was tempted to just leave right then, knowing that House was not still incapacitated. But she couldn't help going in. She felt like she was entering the lion's den as she entered, but she needed to know if he had made any more progress on the situation.

"House?" she said, getting his attention.

"I'm fine," he said in an even voice as he continued to pick up his mess.

"I can see that. I was just seeing if you have any new ideas yet."

"Has my team finished their testing yet?" House asked, still not looking at her.

"No, Foreman and Chase just took him down to the MRI and with all of the tests that Cameron is currently running, there's no telling when she will be done."

"Are there any new symptoms?"

"No."

"Then I don't have any new ideas. I need to have more information to work with before I can proceed so there won't be anymore ideas until I get more information," He was getting rather short, but he still didn't favor her with a glance.

Cuddy stood for a while, waiting to see if he was ever going to bother looking at her. Finally she gave up saying, "Sorry. Just let me know what ever you need, I'll do my best to help you," and she turned and left.

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"This is going to be a tough one," Foreman said as he and Chase waited for MRI to do its thing. "Not only solving it, but getting through it with our sanity in tact. I have never seen the man so… off."

"Give the guy a break, his best friend is dying form some unknown cause and he feels like he's the only one who can save him," Chase said.

"Yeah, well, we better solve this one, or this could just push him right over the edge. I always knew the man was unstable, but this is ridiculous."

"Foreman, that's not another patient in there. That's Wilson. One of our own, someone we know and work with. I can't believe you are taking this so cool."

"Let's just say that I have learned more from House then how to be cynical and avoid work. House's main thing is to always remain objective. Getting too close to the patient or the situation only distracts from what needs to be done in order to figure out what's wrong. And House is proving his own point right now. He's sent all of us out to run tests without any idea of what we're looking for. When was the last time that he didn't at least have an idea, even if he didn't let us in on it?"

Chase just sat and stared at the screen, realizing that Foreman was right but not sure if he really wanted to give into the coldness of it all.

"Honestly, the best way to help Wilson right now is to forget that it's even him that we're trying to save. I know that's how House was able to help me with that Naegleria."

"He was an ass then and if he stayed like that for this, he'd be an ass now. People are not supposed to be able to just turn off their emotions like that. It's not human."

Foreman shook his head. Chase was just as good as ignoring his own emotions when it suited him. It didn't really make sense for the man to be arguing the way he was. But nothing about today was making much sense.

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The boys finished up their scans and met up with House and Cameron in the conference room shortly after.

"Alright, what have we got?" House asked. He seemed to be back to his normal cold self once again. He didn't have that haunted worried air to him anymore; it was just him solving another puzzle. They weren't sure if this was a good thing or not. It was obviously not healthy for him, but was it what would save Dr. Wilson?

"MRI was clean," Foreman answered.

"I haven't found anything yet in the blood tests, but it would help if we could narrow down what it may be," Cameron said.

"Alright, let's go back to that differential people. What could this be?"

"Lot's of things," Chase said.

"What are the most likely. Come on, you know how this works."

"Mitral Valve Prolapse," Foreman stated.

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere. Doubtful, but possible," House said as he wrote the suggestion on the board. "That means that this probably started as a virus, what are some of the more likely virus that can lead to MVP?"

"CMV?" Chase suggested. House wrote it as a bullet under MVP

"Encephalitis?" Cameron said. It went up too.

There was silence for a few moments.

"Anything else?" House asked.

"MVP could be resulted from bacterial meningitis," Foreman said.

"Not likely. He was fine prior to his episode. I think that we might have noticed signs of meningitis for the last few weeks."

"MVP can also be caused by stress. If that's the case, then all we have to do is the surgery to correct the Mitral value and not have to worry about virus treatment," Cameron suggested.

"Well let's run the Epison-Barr for these two and see which it is. Foreman, you and Chase get an ultra sound while Cameron runs the tests."

They all nodded and left the room to attend to their new tasks.

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He knew that he probably shouldn't since he had finally regained his cool, but House found himself heading to the room where Wilson lay. He paused in the doorway as he watched Foreman and Chase set up the ultra sound and begin the scan.

As he watched his friend lying there, helpless and unconscious, he began to wonder what it might have been like for Wilson to see him like that when he went through the Infarct. For the first time, he was realizing that his experience was painful and difficult for those around him as well as himself. They may not have been able to feel the physical pain that he did, but he now knew that there was a deep emotional pain watching someone you care about teeter on the edge of death like this.

But as he watched the procedure in the room, he was only distantly aware of his thoughts. It was as if some other part of himself was thinking about all of the emotions but none of it was really impacting him. He knew that it would catch up with him eventually, but right now it was just too important for him to remain objective, to remain as distant as possible.

He had been so engulf in his musings that it took him a minute to hear what Chase was saying. "There's nothing there. It looks clean," He was saying.

"Let's check the flow," Foreman said as he fliped a switch on the machine, changing the contrasts on the display. They stared for a moment before Chase shook his head. "Still nothing. This is not MVP," he pronounced.

Neither of them had been aware that House had been watching him and so were both a little startled when all of the sudden he was right there, studying the screen as well. He looked on for a while before he shook his head. He couldn't see anything either.

He just turned and walked out, muttering under his breath, "Should have known… didn't explain the hallucinations."

Chase and Foreman exchanged a glance. House was right; MVP didn't explain hallucinations so why had none of them caught that?


	6. Hey, It's House

**Hey, It's House…**

They met up once again in the conference room, feeling rather bad about this failure. All of them had missed something and that just didn't bode well.

"Ok, so it's not MVP," House said as he drew a line through both the MVP on the board and the two viruses under it. "What else people?"

"It could be parasitical," Cameron suggested. "Toxoplamosis?"

"Not unless he was immune weakened. And again, we would have seen signs of flu before hand," House answered.

"Myiasis?" Chase said, not really thinking it very likely.

House thought for a moment before writing it on the board. "Possible, but has anyone seen any insect bites?" he asked.

"No, but we haven't really been looking," Cameron answered.

"Well this is the best so far. Start him on Ivermectin while Cameron runs the Antigen."

"Shouldn't we find the bite mark?" Foreman asked.

"You can look, but it may have healed by now. Myiasis can live in the body for weeks before developing symptoms. Best thing now is to start treatment and hope it's the right one."

They were all used to this philosophy and it had worked for them in the past, but this was Wilson that they were working on. "Shouldn't we verify that it's Myiasis before we start? Ivermectin could just make things worse." Cameron said, knowing that she was going to be the only one to bring up the subject.

House sat for a moment before saying, "Just do it."

Chase and Cameron got up and left but Foreman sat in his place for a while. House looked up and saw him still there.

"What?" House demanded.

"You don't look so good," he said simply. He had been observing the doctor for some time now. He couldn't figure out why, but it looked as though he was beginning to go through Detox again. Now did not seem like the time for him to be ignoring his Vicodin. The last time that he did this, they had nearly killed the boy that they had been working with before House was able to come up with a correct diagnosis.

House just stared at Foreman, wondering what in the world the man was getting at. "Sorry. Next time I bring my dying friend in, I'll make sure I'm properly showered and primped."

"I don't mean that. I mean your not looking your normal… high self," he really didn't know how else to phrase it. This was the closest he was going to get to actually asking why the man hadn't taken his narcotics that day.

House stared at Foreman for a second before he realized that he wasn't really feeling all that great. He hadn't purposely not taken his Vicodin since he had gotten out of bed today, but he had had more important things to deal with. He had set the pills on his desk and had forgotten about them right up till now.

"Huh," House said. "Maybe this is all a way to get me to kick the habit," he said more to himself then anything. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll go and feed my need now," House said as he got up and walked in his office.

Foreman watched him walk in and grab the pills from his desk before he got up and left. He never saw House actually take them, but he was sure that is what would happen. But right as he stepped out the door, his pager went off. He could hear House's also sounding distantly in the next room. As he glanced down, House was already rushing past him.

Foreman froze as he read, _Wilson code blue_.

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By the time they reached the room, Chase had already brought the man back for a third time. The heart monitor was beeping steadily once again, but the O2 stats were still very low as well as the blood pressure. If he crashed again, there was probably no way that they'd be able to bring him back another time.

"I think it was the Ivermectin," Chase said as House with Foreman hot on his heals, rushed in. Chase was still coming down from his brief adrenaline rush and was speaking quickly. "His stats were actually slightly better then they had been when I started him and then all the sudden, even thing crashed again."

"So, not Myiasis," House said.

"But with that speed, I would almost think that either he had an allergic reaction to the Ivermectin, or whatever is causing his coma is what reacted to it," Foreman said.

"Not Anaphylaxis," Chase said. "No rash, no nodules. Just cardiac arrest."

"Then it's an interaction, not a reaction," House said as he turned and headed purposefully to his office once again. Foreman and Chase were left to trail after him.

Nobody said anything as House entered his office once again. He went over to his book shelf and pulled a book out, taking it over to his desk. He absentmindedly picked up the bottle of pills that he had dropped on the desk when his pager went off, he hadn't taken any yet.

He opened the book and began to flip through it with on hand while he popped the top to the pills and dumped some onto his desk. He kept flipping pages as he picked up one pill and swallowed it.

Just then he found what he was looking for. Grabbing the book he spun it around to face Chase and Foreman. They looked down at what he was showing them.

"Cyanide?" Chase said, completely startled by what House thought was going on.

"Makes perfect sense. It fits everything, even the Ivermectin interaction"

"But how would he get such a high dose of the stuff? Either someone was trying to kill him…"

"OR he was trying to kill himself," Chase finished.

Just then they noticed that House was looking rather flushed and having difficulty breathing. His skin had erupted in sweat and it was obvious that his body temperature was spiking.

"House?!" Chase said as he rushed around the desk to his ailing boss's side.

House began to grip his chest with one hand and grabbed for the vicodin on the desk with the other.

Foreman picked up the phone and was calling for help as Chase was trying to figure out what was wrong. "I don't think you're pills are going to help right now," Chase heard himself say distantly as he was trying to help House. The man kept pushing him back though and was still grabbing at the pills.

Suddenly it hit Foreman. "The pills!" he said. "He hasn't had them all day and as soon as he took one, he has a reaction!" House nodded weakly as he allowed Chase in to help now that Foreman had solved the message he was trying to get across.

"Cyanide?" Chase asked as he began to work.

"Must be!" Foreman said as he rushed into the conference room. Luckily they kept medical supplies in there as well. Foreman reached into the cabinet and pulled out a syringe of Epinephrine. It wasn't going to clean out the cyanide, but it would buy them some time until they were able to get the nitrites that they needed.

He raced into the office again just as help had arrived. It was a matter of minutes before they were rushing the Diagnostian on a gurney to the ER. The Epi had helped to slow the poison's progress but they needed to work fast. His lungs and heart were shutting down and he was quickly loosing consciousness.

As they reached the ER, Foreman was calling, "let's get some amyl nitrite and

intravenous sodium nitrite and sodium thiosulfate!"

"Cyanide poisoning?" one of the nurses asked.

"Hey it's House, this shouldn't come as such a surprise," Chase answered.

A/N don't think the interaction is true but I don't really know if a lot of the medical stuff I have mentioned is true. Was just trying to make an interesting story and I apologize for all Fiction that I used


	7. A Saved Life

A/N: My sincere and humble apologies for not putting this chapter up before. I honestly thought that I had posted it. Luckily I was rereading some old fics and discovered my mistake. So, though it's been forever since I published it, here it is, the conclusion!

**A Saved Life**

"Cyanide?" Wilson demanded. He had responded well to the treatment and was now fully awake if still terribly weak.

"Yup; and the funny part is, it was meant for me, not you," House said from where he was still begrudgedly sitting in bed. He had felt perfectly fine, but Cuddy had threatened to restrain him to his bed if he didn't stay put for one more night of observation.

"But how? Why?" Wilson demanded.

"My Vicodin, well what I and presumably you, thought was vicodin. The pills that were on my coffee table… had 'em tested. Laced with Cyanide."

"But how did they get there? Where'd they come from? And who wanted to kill you this time?"

"Cops said the prints on the bottle matched those of the guy that shot me. I still don't know how it is that the man got away then, but it seems he really wants me dead."

Wilson stared at House, wondering how he was able to take this so cool. "This is the second attempt on your life, it nearly killed me, and your just sitting there proud of how you were able to solve yet another case? It was just another saved life to you?"

House didn't answer.

"You really are the king of denial," Wilson finally concluded.

House shrugged before saying, "And why, by the way, did you take my Vicodin?"

Wilson looked a little embarrassed before answering, "I woke up with a hang over and was going to get up to find some Aspirin when I noticed the Vicodin right there. I figured you'd never notice and I felt too sick to try and get up, so I took one. I almost took two, but I guess it's a good thing I decided that would be overkill."

"No, you would just be killed… There's no over to death," House answered.

They sat in silence for a while after that. Until Wilson couldn't take it anymore. "But how did it get there?" he asked.

House sighed. "I don't know. Now that I'm actually thinking about it, I'm sure that it wasn't there when I went to bed that night."

"That means that someone put it there while I was sleeping?" Wilson said startled.

"Must of. Didn't lock up that night, would have been easy to just walk in and set the bottle down. Probably saw you but figured that it wouldn't matter, I'm the one with the addiction."

"You know, this is rather ironic," Wilson said after another moment of silence.

"How so?"

"Me almost dying by taking the very thing I try to get you to stop taking."

House smiled, "That should teach you to meddle with other people's prescriptions. Don't you know it's dangerous to take someone else's meds?"

Wilson smiled sadly and shook his head. This was going to be a long 24 hours sharing a room with his friend…


End file.
